


i want you baby tonight as sure as you're born

by katyfaise



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 04:38:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4815374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/pseuds/katyfaise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I came for your opinion on something,” Gaby explains, dropping her hands to her sides. Illya raises a brow, seems to take the bait. Her hands hover near the belt that holds her trench coat closed and she sighs, a bit over exaggerated for Gaby. “I spent my day off shopping. I want to know what you think of this purchase.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i want you baby tonight as sure as you're born

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neckwear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neckwear/gifts).



> straight up porn y'all  
> all mistakes are mine please let me know if i miss any and i will amend  
> talk to me on tumblr @ illyakurykins (more like scream at me about tmfu and i'll scream back and probably cry a bit)  
> title from hozier

“Were you sleeping?”

Gaby pushes her way past the doorway and Illya, her hands in the pockets of the trench coat she wears, circles around the sitting room until she pauses and her focus lands back on Illya. 

When he turns to face her, closing the door in his motion, he decides she’s like a cat stalking her prey. There’s a devilish smirk on her lips and her eyes look just a bit wild - maybe the result of a few too many glasses of vodka. Everything else about her is in its place, and he wonders if perhaps he knows her well enough to see the signs nobody else would be able to. There’s a curl that falls beside her face and he’s tempted to step close to tuck it behind her ear. Instead, he nods simply to answer her question.

“Enjoying your break?” she asks and Illya nods in response once more. She’s circling again, fingertips brushing over the backs of furniture and getting closer and closer to him with each step. It’s late. He should be asleep - readying himself for the new assignment that starts at oh eight hundred hours officially, but she continues to move closer, and Illya suddenly can’t remember how to say no. In any language.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asks, crossing his arms along his broad chest. “Not whatever… this is.” Illya gestures to her standing in front of him, and he can’t help but notice that she is moving closer inch by inch. When she’s within arms reach, she smiles and reaches out to rest her small hands on his arms. Illya relaxes beneath her touch on his bare forearms - skin on skin in a way that he has learned to appreciate. She seems to realize the effect she has on him all over again and she takes a step back. 

“I came for your opinion on something,” Gaby explains, dropping her hands to her sides. Illya raises a brow, seems to take the bait. Her hands hover near the belt that holds her trench coat closed and she sighs, a bit over exaggerated for Gaby. “I spent my day off shopping. I want to know what you think of this purchase.”

It’s then that she pulls the belt loose and pushes the jacket back. Illya’s breath catches slightly when he sees her standing there, the light purple negligee short on her thighs and made of silk. There’s lace where her pert breasts are and he focuses on her hardened nipples, the dusty flesh there no more than a tease. Illya pulls his gaze away and meets her eyes as he swallows the lump in his throat. He wonders if he’s managing to keep his cool in front of her, or if she can see the sweat beading up on his forehead - if she can hear his heart rate  speeding.

When Illya doesn’t respond, Gaby sighs again and drops her arms. “Oh… you don’t like it…” She’s smirking still though, and Illya looks up at her with a surprised gaze. 

“No!” he says quickly, reaching out to stop her. “No,” he repeats, softer this time and with a shake of his head. He moves close to her and reaches out, large hands moving against the silk and following the curve of her body. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, face a picture of innocence and Illya breathes heavy through his nose. When his fingers curve up her body and he brushes a thumb over a nipple, Gaby is finally the one to be caught off guard. She hisses a breath through her teeth and leans into him, her body seeking his. He leans down, lips brushing hers enough that when he pulls away, Gaby is chasing after him for more. 

“Fuck me,” Gaby breathes out, grabbing his hand. She is used to taking control of the situations between them. It gives her a power that she’s never had before and it’s made her a different woman - a woman that she happens to like more these days. Gaby guides his hand between her legs where she’s bare and holds it there. Illya keeps his eyes locked on hers, even as she closes her own eyes and grinds her hips against his hand. She uses him to get off, to come quickly and Illya allows her to do so. When she is done shaking, her legs steady beneath her finally, she steps away and braces herself against the back of the couch while she shrugs the coat to the floor. Illya surges forward then, his arms around her waist as he easily picks her up and deposits her on the couch. He climbs over the back, much to Gaby’s delight, and hovers above her. She reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair and the smile on her lips softens. 

Illya kisses her hungrily, like he’s never kissed her before. His lips leave hers swollen and red as he begins to kiss down her jaw and to her neck. She is sure there will be a few bruises right at her hairline, hidden by her hair of course because Illya makes sure that discretion is top priority. When his lips reach her cleavage, he pulls the negligee down gently, far enough that his mouth can wrap around her nipple. His teeth scrape the flesh and Gaby moans out, her pelvis jerking upright. She wants him. She _needs_ him. And Gaby has never been patient.

She tries to take control again, and only gets as far as helping him undress, because when she tries to guide his hips between her legs he bites down on her shoulder. Immediately she stops and he lightly kisses the spot on her skin. Her eyes are wide when he sits up on his haunches and pulls her along with him. Gently, Illya flips her position and pushes her down, her face against the cushions of the plush couch. She feels his fingers on her hips, rough and solid as he enters her from behind. Gaby slows, adjusting to how he fills her and she groans out. The sound is muffled, but Illya leans forward a bit to reach for her hand. He laces his fingers with hers and continues to push forward. Gaby squeezes his hand tightly, her moans a strangled sound from her throat.

Once he is fully inside of her, he pulls out slowly. The feeling is agonizing, and Gaby mutters something unintelligible to his ears. He’s never taken her from behind like this, and the new angle is already enjoyable in a way Gaby could never imagine. When Illya thrusts back inside of her, Gaby moans loudly, growing used to the sensation. He continues slowly for only a few more minutes, because before he can contain himself he grabs her hips and begins to fuck her wildly. It’s exactly what she craves, and each time he rolls his hips forward and she hears the way their skin meets, she cannot help but whisper his name. 

And that only pushes Illya to press forward. He reaches around her and his fingers find her clit. Illya rubs roughly, matching the pace as he moves in and out of her. His lips brush down her spine, licking the beads of sweat that will pool in the dimple above her ass. When she stretches out, her back arched delicately against him, she calls out his name with a heavy moan. Her orgasm shakes her whole body, wracking her tiny frame as he continues to fuck her through it. Illya slows finally and pulls out, runs his hand down her back as Gaby catches her breath and he sits up against the back of the couch. Gaby glances at him over her shoulder, a tiny frown on her lips.

“Illya, that’s not fair,” she says pointedly, a tsk following her words. 

“What do you mean?"

“You didn’t… I got all the pleasure,” Gaby explains, carefully turning and sitting up on her knees. Illya waves her concern off but Gaby only looks down at his still erect cock, the frown not leaving her face.

“It’s no issue,” he says, but Gaby shakes her head. 

“Allow me.” With that, she bends down, her tongue running up the smooth line of his cock. Illya’s groans encourage her as she grasps his thighs and takes his cock into her mouth. Gaby hollows out her cheeks, moving her head in a steady rhythm as she sucks him off. Illya’s hand fists into her hair, guiding her just so. When his hips jerk in response, Gaby looks up at him with wide eyes, watching as he lets his head fall back against the back of the couch. He comes then, spilling into her mouth and Gaby takes every drop. She sits up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and Illya reaches out to grab her chin. He pulls her close for a kiss, just as rough and needy as earlier and when he pulls back he smooths her hair from her face. 

She crawls into his lap then and watches curiously as Illya fingers the hem of her negligee. He touches the lace gently and smooths his hand over the silk that stretches across her stomach. 

“Yes,” he says, catching her attention by surprise, “I like this one.” 

And Gaby smiles because she had picked it out with him in mind. 

 


End file.
